


Quaff

by claraowl



Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: F/M, Heels being less Heels than usual, Hurt/Comfort, Opening Night, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, originally for the A-Z Story Game on ffnet, sneaky Murasume, when you're so freaked out you break character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-20 08:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claraowl/pseuds/claraowl
Summary: It's Tragic Marker's opening night, and Sestu takes a spill on the red carpet. Can Kyoko make it through the evening without the secret of the Heels being revealed?
Relationships: Mogami Kyoko/Tsuruga Ren, Setsuka Heel/Cain Heel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Quaff

**First off, I am infinitely sorry that this is so late. Forgive me!**

**Second off, I hope that you enjoy this, even if I do not own Skip Beat and my head is somewhat muddled by my allergies.**

**Can you find the Baccano reference? ;)**

_This cannot be happening._ Why _did I have to wear these ridiculous heels?_

The red-decorated ground rushed up towards her, and she felt an unfamiliar arm curve around her waist. “You okay, Setsuka-san?”

Perhaps before the story continues, the reader would like some context. What occurred prior to this event is quite simple, if a bit convoluted (Lory was, after all, involved): It was _Tragic Marker_ ’s opening night and Cain Heel had been required to attend. He had refused point-blank, and had only been convinced when Setsu (who wanted an excuse to dress up) and Kyoko (whose professionalism would _not_ permit the skipping of such an event) joined forces and begged to go. He had yet remained immovable and simply sat down in the make-up trailer. Then, to Lory’s eternal amusement, Setsu had turned her own version of her nii-san’s puppy eyes on the very man whom she had first seen use them. Ren’s resolve hadn’t lasted very long after that – one point six seven seconds, to be precise. Cain had pulled Setsu onto his lap and grunted that if she wanted to go, he would escort her… but she had to let him buy her a dress of which he approved. Setsu giggled, and Kyoko noted that Cain was as susceptible to Setsu’s puppy eyes as she was to his (while of course it was Kuon who was susceptible all along). Lory tucked this information away for a later date; it would be useful somehow.

The story of their shopping trip and the ninety-eight rejected dresses is a tale for another day. This tale is one of the premier, starting in their hotel room on the morning of that day.

“Caaaaaaaaain,” Setsu whined, sitting atop the cocoon that was her onii-san’s sleeping body, “how long are you going to sleep? I’m bored, and there’s nothing left for me to do.”

Cain grunted.

“It’s almost noon. Get up.”

His head poked out of the cocoon; one eye opened and shot her a soft glare. He then disappeared back into the folds of his blanket.

“Please?” she pouted, and felt him shift under her. “I finished all the laundry, did my nails, and completely re-organized the closet. I have brunch waiting for you, and it’s getting cold. What am I supposed to do if nii-san leaves me here alone?”

His head re-emerged from the cocoon. “And how exactly am I supposed to get up if you’re sitting on me?”

“You’re nii-san. You’ll figure something out.”

He sighed and shimmied out of the cocoon, somehow managing to not displace his little sister. “Happy?”

“No. You need to eat.”

“Okay.” He put one of her fingers in his mouth and began tasting it.

Kyoko had a minor mental breakdown. Setsu was unimpressed. “That doesn’t count, nii-san. My fingers don’t have nutrients. Eggs do.” She then shut her eyes to hide from the impending puppy expression.

When this ruse failed, Cain sat up, forcing Setsu to slide backward onto his thighs. “Fine. Anything to make you happy.”

She beamed at him and scrambled off of the bed before he could pick her up and carry her to the table as he had last week. Such treatment was not good for the boss Kyoko’s heart – then again, neither was waking up nii-san by sitting on him, but Setsu didn’t really care.

“Do you like it?” she inquired, and he nodded through a mouthful of cheesy eggs.

“Everything you cook tastes good.”

She smiled, and then reached across the table to press on his nose. “Boop.”

He raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged.

“You left me alone all morning, so I watched something that one of the girls back home recommended.”

“One of the girls?”

“Yeah. That Annabel girl from the USA.”

“Ah, her.” Annabel had been a character of Kyoko’s from a Truth or Dare session at the Takarada mansion. Cain took another bite of eggs, and then glanced up at his love. “How long will you need to get ready?”

“Muse-sama’s coming around two to help us look our best,” she informed him, nibbling on some toast (she’d already eaten).

“Anything you want to do between then and now?”

“I want you to eat all of your food.”

“Besides that, Setsu.”

She finished her slice of toast. “I’d like to spend some time with nii-san. It’s been so busy lately that we’re never alone anymore.”

He smiled. “As you wish.”

She rolled her eyes. “Eat your eggs.”

Thus the morning passed with light teasing, flirting, and general Heel sibling behavior. The happy pair then scurried down to the trailer where Jelly Woods awaited them. The two had been dolled up appropriately (Jelly had pouted over the dress Cain had gotten Setsu -- it was much too conservative for her tastes -- and then altered it) and then sent off to take a walk down the red carpet. Setsu smirked, and asked Cain if he had dyed it red himself with the blood of random punk-wannabes. He chuckled, and the chauffeur shuddered, wondering why he always had to deliver the nut-jobs. It was with no little joy that our friend the young conductor (er, driver) dropped the two of them off at the theatre.

Cain stepped out of the car first, and then offered a hand to Setsu. “Coming?”

“Nah, I think I’ll stay in the car.” She rolled her eyes. “Nii-san doesn’t want other people to see me in this dress.”

He shrugged, turned on his heel, and began walking -- a challenge to her, or perhaps an admittal. “See you later.”

_What?_ “Cain, wait!” she called, attempting to scoot out of the car and not flash anyone with her now-short dress. _Stupid thing,_ she cursed mentally, _how am I supposed to even move in this?_ No sooner had she gotten out of the car than her heel -- her ridiculously tall, wafer-thin heel -- caught on the edge of the red carpet. _This cannot be happening._ Why _did I have to wear these ridiculous heels?_

The red-decorated ground rushed up towards her, and she felt an unfamiliar arm curve around her waist. “You okay, Setsuka-san?” 

Kyoko settled her feet underneath herself and gave a slight bow before looking up to see who had spoken. “Yes, thank you very much -- ah.”

“S’matter?” Murasame inquired, his arm still around her waist.

She glanced ahead -- Cain had made his way unhampered through the reporters and disappeared into the building -- and gave a slight pout. _Fine,_ she decided, over Kyoko’s loud internal protests (squashed by Natsu, who was interested in where this might go), _nii-san wants to play… so I’ll play._

“Setsuka-san?” the ex-yanki questioned, drawing back and glancing around; people were beginning to notice them. “Is something wrong?”

Setsu smiled at him then -- a predatory smile, one meant more to frighten than to entice. Her head tilted to one side; she slipped her arm through his. “Nothing at all. Ready to go?”

“W-What about your brother?” he muttered to her as they began walking down the carpet, smiling and dodging questions.

“Hmm?” She batted her eyes at a nearby photographer, pretending that he was her nii-san. The poor man nearly passed out.

“Won’t he try to kill me for touching you?” He gave a fan a friendly wave.

“Nah, nii-san won’t care. He ditched me.” Setsu giggled; Kyoko had a sudden urge to slam her head against the wall… not that Setsu cared. She was trying out a new form of pouting, and wanted to see its effects on her nii-san. If a convenient dupe happened along to be her puppet… well, then that would be just wonderful. It didn’t hurt that nii-san already hated her chosen puppet.

“Ditched you?”

“Mm-hmm. He left me at the car, thinking that I was going home. Nii-san didn’t wanna share me tonight.” She winked at him. Kyoko screamed at her.

Murasame gulped, and then smiled, adjusting her grip on his arm. “Then may I escort you?”

Her eyes narrowed; her smirk widened. “Of course.”

They entered the building, Murasame with no little trepidation -- Cain _had_ nearly killed him before, after all, and Setsu hadn’t even been involved then. Now the girl in question was hanging off of his arm for reasons unknown. He sighed, but instead decided to simply enjoy the fact that he could escort a beautiful woman that night.

The beginning of the movie went well; the two sat together, and their seats were nowhere near Cain’s – he didn’t even know that Setsu was still there. Murasame enjoyed himself during the movie, as Kyoko would occasionally break character and actually fear what was occurring on-screen, and that fear led to her unconsciously clutching at his arm. He patted her on the head – “It’s just a movie; that’s your brother, remember?” – and eventually put his arm around her. She stiffened, but did not move his arm; there was no time between that occurrence and BJ’s on-screen death.

_No._

The man-corpse wavered, and then tumbled backwards.

_No…_

She screamed, a cry of pain wrenched from her body.

“ _NO!_ ”

“Setsuka-san?” Murasame yelped, jolting away from her.

“ _Sempai_!” Her grip on reality had all but shattered; was anything less to be expected of a girl who consorts with faeries? The sight of her beloved (even if she denied it) dying (even if she knew that it was just acting) was enough to drive Kyoko past her limits. She was on her feet, staring about wildly as the credits rolled; Murasame was trying to calm her, telling her that it was all acting, that Cain was alive; but she knew no reason, and pushed his hands away, still calling for her sempai.

Ren hurried down the aisle; he’d heard her cry, and Cain’s persona had shattered at the sound. He didn’t stop to question why she was still here – actually, he questioned why he hadn’t checked, as her continued presence was such a Setsu thing to do – but instead jumped over the last few rows, landing directly in front of her. “Setsu?”

Kyoko swallowed her cries and stared at him for a moment, her make-up streaking her cheeks; she was ashamed – how could she have broken character like that? “C-Cain,” she hiccupped. “Y-Your acting f-fooled me again.”

“Did I scare you?” he inquired in English; she nodded. “C’mere.”

She stepped into his arms without hesitation, and clung to him; he could feel her shaking. “I thought… for a second….”

His arms enveloped her, held her to him. “It was just a role.”

“…don’t leave.”

“I won’t.”

They stayed like that, Setsu dampening the front of Cain’s shirt, until the credits ended and the lights came back on. He then picked her up and carried her out of the theater, ignoring the conversations of those who had seen them.

Murasame did not quite know how to respond to these events. How attached _were_ those two? How on earth were they actually siblings? Were they—something pinged in his memory as Manaka came up behind him, grabbed his arm, and dragged him out into the dining hall.

_Sempai_ , she had screamed. Not ‘nii-san’ – ‘sempai.’

He blinked. _What…?_

Meanwhile, Cain had carried Setsu into one of the family bathrooms and was cleaning her face with a damp paper towel. “I thought that you’d left.”

She sniffed, but gave no other answer, as she did not trust herself to speak as Setsu at the moment. Berating herself for being so weak – she’d _known_ it was just a movie, so why had she reacted so strongly? – she pushed her face against the paper towel in his hand.

“Why didn’t you come find me?” he inquired, his voice rough.

“I thought that you didn’t want me here.”

He shifted his stance, bringing himself closer to her; she clung to him. “I said that I didn’t want to share you.”

“Magikarp,” she muttered, slipping back into herself for a moment.

He smiled at that – it had become something of an inside joke for them, something said when she did not know what to say – and did the same. “I’m fine, I promise.”

She blinked; he had said that last sentence in Japanese. If he had done that, then… she glanced up, and was met with something akin to his heavenly smile.

“See?” he inquired softly, before switching back to English. “I’m still here.”

She nodded, and slipped back into Setsu. “I’m sorry for the fuss, nii-san.”

“I’m just glad that my adorable little sister cares about me.” … _that_ you _care about me._

“Of course I do! Nii-san is everything to me!” she declared, straightening. Then she glanced into the mirror and blinked; most of her make-up had come off due to her tears and Cain’s paper towel. “I’ll fix myself up and then we can go eat, okay?”

“We could just skip dinner and go home,” he offered, releasing her so that she could reapply her disguise.

She glared at him in the mirror as she spread the contents of her purse out on the counter. “That’s not an option, nii-san. By the time we get home, it’ll be too late for us to eat anything without worrying about our images. We have to eat here. And no puppy-dog pout!”

He chuckled, thwarted. “I’m glad that you’re back to normal.”

She blew him a kiss in the mirror, and then went about re-applying her make-up.

Murasame paced back and forth, trying to make things add up in his mind. If Cain was Setsuka’s sempai – she’d seemed pretty distressed, so it wasn’t like she’d make a mistake in names – what did that mean? Was she not actually his sister? Maybe, he mused, she was studying under Cain for how to be horrifying? But then, why pretend to be siblings? Why not just state that theirs was a sempai-kohai bond, or the romantic one they played at having?

What was up with that, anyway? If they were so obviously romantic, why pretend to be siblings? Were they attempting to shock people? Or was there some other reason – were they using that as a distraction? If so, for what?

“What would you like to drink, sir?” the waitress asked, halting his pacing. He plopped into his chair.

“A coke, please,” he replied, before continuing his musings. It wasn’t like any real siblings acted like that… perhaps it _was_ a cover? But why would they need a cover?

“Is something wrong?” Manaka inquired, her hamster headband bobbing. She still hadn’t quite given up on Cain, despite Setsu throwing her to the ground.

“What? No, nothing. Just thinking,” he laughed. “The Heels are a bit strange, that’s all.”

“How so?” she tilted her head as she asked this, aiming for maximum cuteness – she was practicing for when Cain arrived. 

“It’s just…” he paused and glanced around; the Heels were finally making their entrance. Setsu seemed to have calmed down a little. “Nothing. Never mind.”

She blinked, but shrugged; she proceeded to blow bubbles in her milkshake when the waitress brought it over a few moments later. “Okay.”

He sipped his coke, observing as Setsu and Cain scooted their chairs directly adjacent to each other and Setsu swung her legs over his lap. What could they possibly be covering for? It wasn’t like Cain Heel was so well-known that he’d need to keep a secret identity or something of the like – in fact, Murasame had never even _heard_ of Cain Heel, even though he kept up with all the tid-bit actors of the world!

…Secret identity?

He blinked and set his drink down slowly, not even noticing when an already-inebriated stuntman did a series of backflips for reasons unknown. If Cain needed a façade, then wouldn’t a flashy persona be perfect for hiding himself? Setsu was more than capable of distracting any male who had functioning eyes, but… why would he need to hide himself – and in that case, who was Setsu?

“Have you decided what to order?” Manaka asked, once more derailing his train of thought. “Everything sounds so good that I can’t decide.”

“I’m probably going to get the fried chicken – my favorite, you know,” He smiled, shaking his questions off for the time being.

Cain quaffed his drink, one hand resting on Setsu’s ankle. He traced around her ankle bone, smiling when she squeaked. He took another hearty gulp from his glass, emptying it, and signalled to the waitress for another.

“He’ll have water this time, actually,” Setsu interjected. When Cain raised an eyebrow at her, she elaborated, “You drink too much. You’re an actor! You’ve got to upkeep your body!”

When the waitress hesitated, Cain simply waved her on, nodding to indicate that she ought to follow Setsu’s orders. She nodded and scuttled away, her heels clicking on the floor like a crab’s claws. He muttered this simile into Setsu’s ear; she giggled. To a casual observer, they looked like a comfortable, if odd, couple.

Murasame took a bite out of his chicken. The conversation was enjoyable, if a bit typical; they were discussing the various events and mishaps of the filming and reminiscing fondly about the inside jokes and pranks that had occurred. Inevitably, though, the topic turned to the dangerous couple, and Murasame voiced his suspicions.

“So you think that they’re not actually siblings?”

He nodded and leaned forward on his elbows. “I mean, c’mon -- what siblings would act like that? It’s gotta be a cover for something.”

“Oookay… assuming we accept your conspiracy theory…” a fellow actress said, twirling her straw in her glass, “what would they be covering for? It’s not like this is exactly a reputation-staining job. So why would they even need a cover?”

“True,” another actress noted. “If anything, the ability to play such a scary villain would help his reputation.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of being typecast?” an actor suggested. “That can happen with hit roles. Double-edged sword, y’know.”

“But why would he need a fake little sister?” Murasame pressed. “Why not have her be a clingy manager or something?”

“Well, it does make you want to avoid them,” the actress shrugged. “The greater the avoidance, the less likely they are to get found out. It’s logical.”

“Yeah, but  _ why--? _ ”

“Drop it,” the other actor advised. “It’ll be revealed eventually, if you’re right -- which I doubt. Chill. Eat. Relax.” 

Murasame sighed, but did as he was bid. The matter dropped, though he would continue to mull over it for months.

Setsu’s grip on her elder brother’s shirt had gradually tightened during this conversation, though her face revealed none of her panic. “Cain.”

He grunted an affirmative.

“When are you going to tell them about the one whose body you’re borrowing?” she murmured, lifting a fork to his lips.

“In a few months, maybe?” he shrugged, allowing her to feed him. “Long enough to let the hype get up a bit.”

“What about them?” She tilted her head towards the other tables as she said this, indicating the antecedent of her vague pronoun.

“The same time the public finds out,” he smirked. 

Her face mirrored his. “Good. That means that I don’t have to share you with those floozies for a little while longer.”

“Floozies?” he chuckled. 

“Hamster.”

“Ah. I see your point.” He traced her ankle again and the pulled her completely onto his lap. “That’s good. I don’t want to share you with anyone...ever.”

“Nobody ever said that you had to,” she shrugged, cuddling against him. 

“Dangerous words,” he observed, pained by how true they were.

“Nah. You’d never hurt me.”

Before the depth of her trust in him could sink in and make his heart swell to the appropriate size, the microphone at the front of the room gave a loud crackle. All attention shifted to the front, where the director stood. He smiled out at them, proud of their work. His speech began, lauding their craftsmanship in producing such a wonderful film and describing his thoughts on each member of the cast and crew. Sensing Setsu’s supreme suspense and ignoring the authoress’s love for abounding alliteration, Cain slipped his arms around his sister and stood as quietly as possible. He gave the director a slight bow, raising a hand in farewell; the director nodded and continued speaking. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against his shoulder once they’d exited the hall. “I don’t know what’s up with me today….”

“It’s fine, love,” he murmured back in Japanese. “It’s been a rough evening for all of us.”

“All?”

“You, me, and those we share our bodies with.”

She nodded; then she realized something. He’d called her ‘love’ in Japanese. It was just an accident (or so she told herself), but it was enough to make her pulse race. He noticed this even as she was denying it, and took heart. 

“Do you want to just go home?”

“...Home?”

“The hotel,” he elaborated, switching back to English.

“Oh.” For a moment, she’d slipped outside of Setsu; she’d thought that he meant  _ his _ home. “Yes, nii-san.”

He nodded and motioned for the chauffer to be brought around for them. He did not release her; she did not argue. Instead, she rested her head against his shoulder, content and safe in his arms -- and she stayed that way until the next morning, too afraid of his slipping away as he had in the film to care for propriety. This nearness, combined with his murmured language slip, permitted her to drift off to sleep.

She would never admit any of this, but he knew; after all, the same had been true for him not so long ago.

**The End!**

**I’m sorry if this is lousy. -_- My brain has allergies fogging it up, and school has been kind of overwhelming.**

**Please review, even if it is to complain about how lousy this is! :D**


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